“But what of Miss Brody?” Anna demanded, near to tears. “She’s not a thief!”
“She’d have had no choice but to do what Hugh demanded,” he said with a shrug. “And she needed money for her family in Ireland, aye? Perhaps they thought of it together.”
Anna gasped softly; she sprang off the bed, began looking around. “I can’t just sit here! We must have another look about.”
Grif halfheartedly helped her, because he knew in his heart of hearts that they’d not unearth Hugh or the beastie. Nevertheless, they searched the room, top to bottom, and then went out, Anna vainly hoping that there had been some mistake, that Hugh was wandering the village.
But there was no sign of him or Miss Brody. And, in fact, they encountered the one person who had seen the couple after Grif and Anna had retired. Ealasaid.
Ealasaid brightened considerably when Grif asked if she’d seen Hugh. “Oh, aye,” she said, smiling broadly. “I saw them both,” she said, looking a little dreamy. “Looking into one another’s eyes and whispering sweet things. ’Twas a night for love, milord.”
“Did they retire?” Anna asked.
“Oh, I donna know, milady. They left, picked up their bags and left.”
“Left? And did ye see them leave town, lass?” Grif asked.
“No, milord, just the inn. I thought it’d be too dark to start a journey, but they took horses and rode on.”
Anna covered her face with her hands.
“Oh, there now, miss!” the girl said kindly. “There’s no shame in it, truly, for they seemed very much in love!”
Anna and Grif rode out that morning after posting Anna’s letter home. When Grif paused to look back at Gretna Green, Anna put her hand on his. “It’s no use,” she said softly. “He’s gone.”
“Aye,” Grif said, and looked north, toward Talla Dileas, wondering what in God’s name he would tell his parents now.
Thirty-one
M ared, Ellie, and Natalie had taken it upon themselves to repair the old gazebo down by the loch. They had hammer and nails and a bucket of whitewash, and wore, over their worn spring gowns, old aprons. While Ellie and Mared hammered strips of maple they had lathed themselves, Natalie calmly painted one section of railing they had completed yesterday.
The gazebo was perched on a soft hill overlooking Loch Chon, and from the gazebo one could see portions of the road wending its way from Aberfoyle. It was a movement on the road that caught Natalie’s eye, and she glanced up, shielding her eyes from the sun with her paintbrush. “We’ve callers, Mother,” she said calmly.
Ellie and Mared both jerked their gazes to her, then looked to where she pointed. Mared instantly gasped and tossed aside her hammer, marching across the gazebo to have a better look. “Mary Queen of Scots, it’s Grif! I’d know the lad anywhere,” she said. “Dudley was right—he said they’d be less than a fortnight behind.”
“Grif!” Natalie squealed, running to Mared’s side as Ellie walked to the railing.
“Is that Mr. MacAlister, too?” she asked. “He looks rather small.”
“Aye,” Mared said, squinting a little. “Too small.”
“Perhaps he brought his wife home, too, Mother, like the captain brought you,” Natalie suggested.
Ellie and Mared both laughed heartily at that suggestion. “I think no’, Nattie,” Mared said, running her hand over the girl’s head. “Liam, well, he’s always had a soft heart, he has. But Grif… he prefers the company of many to one.”
“Then who might it be?” Ellie asked, and exchanged a look with Mared.
The three of them quickly put away their things and hurried off to the main castle, to warn Aila and Carson that Grif had come home.
It was therefore the reason that the entire family had assembled (Dudley included, for he was, thanks to his dear Fiona, quite improved) in the old great hall, nervously pacing, waiting for the riders to come all the way to the top of the mountain where Talla Dileas had once reigned supreme.
“He’s here, he’s here!” Natalie shrieked, running in from her post at the front entry.
Carson nodded at Dudley.
“Aye, milord,” Dudley said, and with a nod and a click of his heels, he strode smartly from the great hall.
They waited nervously for several moments, each of them stealing glimpses of the other, Natalie with her face pressed to the windowpanes. And then they heard the voices. Nothing they could make out, of course, but enough that they gasped collectively and looked wildly at one another.
“It canna be,” Aila whispered.
“The hell it canna,” Carson said gruffly, and suddenly, as if they were one, the six of them were pushing one another out of the great hall and to the front door.